Time to Say Goodbye
by Gevaudan
Summary: After the events of Exit Wounds, a devastated Gwen needs to say goodbye. Jack helps her to see she's not the only one in pain.


Rating: K+

Disclaimer: I own nothing... well nothing of relevance here anyway. All characters belong to the BBC.

Notes: Another bit of angst that dropped into my head - which is apparently full of gloom! I'm going to go and drown myself in fluff fic after this. This is set just after Exit Wounds. I actually kind of wrote it because I felt like Gwen has the monopoly on grief when Jack dies - I don't think she does it intentionally and this kind of grew out of that. I don't normally write Gwen so hopefully this isn't too OOC.

Time To Say Goodbye

"I'm going to pack their things up," Gwen announced as she entered Jack's office, face still bearing the signs of tears.

With a quiet sigh, Jack set down his sheet of paper, and looked at her seriously, gesturing for her to take a seat.

"I'd rather you didn't," he said slowly, after a long pause, heart breaking anew at the sight of her hazel eyes swimming with tears.

"I don't want to do it either," she admitted, her voice trembling, "but I'm sitting here waiting for them to come through the door and I need to go and say goodbye to them."

He nodded slowly, they all needed to say a final goodbye to their brilliant friends taken far, far too soon.

"We'll go this afternoon," he decided finally, "all of us. I just need to talk to Ianto, first."

"I'd rather," her voice shook, "I'd rather go alone."

He shook his head firmly, "No."

"Jack please," she begged, "I'll be fine. I _need _to do this. I need to say goodbye. On my own."

Gently, he led her to the window, and looked out across the far too empty hub. It seemed a thousand years, it was a thousand years, since he had stood here and watched his team laughing and joking and his heart clenched in grief again. Now there was only Ianto, quietly sorting the papers scattered across the room, his face set and far too pale.

"I get it Gwen," he said gently, "You need to say goodbye, finish putting them to rest with all the care and honour and... and _love _that they deserve."

With a gentle nudge he drew her attention to Ianto, who had stopped to stare at a sheet of paper covered in Tosh's flowing handwriting, his hand visibly shaking.

"But so does he. So do I. We all loved them Gwen. All of us. And we all need to say goodbye."

At that the tears rolled unchecked down her freckled cheeks.

"I didn't mean," she choked on her words, "I know. Oh God Jack, I know you both loved them. It's just I'm the only one still falling apart and I don't want you two to have to take care of me and I just thought it might get easier..."

He pulled her roughly into a hug, stroking her hair softly until her sobs receded.

"We're still falling apart," he whispered gently to her, resting his chin on her head "him especially. You've all had so much to deal with... too much. It will get easier. But it's never going to go away, they're always going to have been taken far too early, and we're all going to have to find a way to cope."

His attention is drawn to the young man below him, as he and Gwen realised simultaneously that Ianto hadn't moved. He remained stood, eyes fixed on the paper, the tremor in his hand still clearly visible. Gwen's breath caught in her throat, her compassion for him momentarily outstripping her own grief. She squeezed Jack's hand in gratitude before leaving his office to wrap her arms around the Welshman, strengthening her grip when a tear escapes down his cheek.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, "I'm ok."

"No," she disagreed, "reaching her arm out to pull Jack into a three way embrace, smiling falteringly as he dropped a fond kiss on Ianto's forehead, "You're not. None of us are."

For a long time they just stood there until Gwen broke the silence.

"I'm going to pack up Tosh's flat, Ianto. Say goodbye properly," Ianto nodded slowly as she paused "Can you both help me..." her voice cracked, "Help me say goodbye."

Ianto nodded again, the lump in his throat almost making it impossible for him to speak.

"If..." he cleared his throat before trying again, "If you'll help me."

Jack nodded, giving each of their hands a squeeze.

"We'll get there," he told them, his voice full of conviction he wasn't sure he felt, "Together. Somehow."

They had to. The 21st Century was when everything changed, and Torchwood had to be ready.


End file.
